


be with you day and night

by ballsdeepinjesus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, i'm sorry for this i'm sorry for everything i'm trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinjesus/pseuds/ballsdeepinjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Maybe not,” Ed pipes up. “This sounds weird but I have a friend who might be able to help you.”</em>
</p><p>  <em>“Is it a priest? I think an exorcism is the only option here, mate.”</em></p><p>  <em>“Right, so like, remember my kitten Graham?” At everyone’s nods, he continues, “Well when I got him he was a bit of a prick. He was just scared, but he wasn’t very pleasant to be around. So my friend Harry comes around one day to hang out and he just, like, <em>bonds</em> with him. After an hour he had him snuggling in his lap. He’s going to school to be a vet I think, and he volunteers in an animal shelter so he’s got lots of experience I guess. But anyway, he developed a bit of a reputation after that and now everyone calls him the Cat Whisperer.”</em></p><p>  <em>“You have a friend everyone calls the Cat Whisperer,” Louis says, “And you’ve neglected to tell me this until <em>now</em>.”</em></p><p> </p><p>[louis inherits a demon cat. harry is a cat whisperer.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	be with you day and night

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry for this....................................................it is trash
> 
> in all of my fics hl get together soooo quickly so i kind of.....took that....and ran w/ it in this fic....and it got a lil crack-y.....maybe.....i am not sure...............i will stop talking
> 
> ps the sex is at the end if thats what u came here for
> 
> edit: now featuring beautiful fanart by tumblr user bgayb <3 <3 <3

Louis doesn’t even know he has an Aunt Milda until the day of her funeral. She’s his great aunt apparently, or so his mum had said on the way over while she corralled all seven of her children into two cars. She was apparently wildly eccentric in the stereotypical way aunts usually are and lived a secluded life in a flat near the seaside in Brighton. Louis feels a little guilty during the ceremony that he can’t muster up any emotions besides vague sadness at a loss of life. The only people present at the funeral are his immediate family, really. 

So it comes as a bit of shock when Aunt Milda’s solicitor approaches them afterward and tells them there’s a will to be read. He selfishly hopes for a moment that he got a bit of money -- the life of a young adult is rough -- but his hopes are swiftly quelled. 

“And to her eldest grand-nephew Louis she leaves Charlie, her dearly beloved cat. Only six years old, Charlie was her faithful companion in her last few years of life, hardly ever leaving her side. Milda said he reminded her of you, Louis,” he says.

“I reminded her of a cat,” Louis states. “I reminded her of a cat when I’ve never even met her.”

“You’ve met her,” his mum admonishes. “It was awhile ago, but you met her! Threw a toy truck in her face, I think.”

“Charlie is a bit of a handful,” the solicitor adds. 

“So Aunt Milda left me her cat because I nearly blinded her with a toy when I was a child. A cat she thinks is just like me. That’s a wonderful sign,” Louis jokes. “Can’t you take it, Mum?”

“Sweetheart,” she says, wincing slightly. “The house is full enough as is with all of the children. And judging from what we’ve heard, I’m not sure Charlie will do well around babies and young’ns. You do have _all_ of that space in your flat…”

And that is how Louis Tomlinson comes into possession of Charlie, the cat from Hell.

The solicitor drops him off in Manchester a few days after the funeral with nothing but a small litter tray, a bag of litter, and a monogrammed food bowl with a few cans of cat food. He places the carrier gingerly on the floor and steps away with haste, shooting Louis a weak smile and muttering “Good luck!” on the way out.

All in all, Louis isn’t feeling too optimistic. 

He sets the carrier in his lounge and opens the hinge, trying to ignore the demonic growling he hears from within. He walks backwards until he hits the couch, sitting down and staring at the carrier pensively. All he sees inside is a shadowy figure in the background and the reflection of two angry eyes staring back at him. He gulps.

To calm his nerves, he turns the telly on and settles in to watch an episode of Breaking Bad on Netflix. One episode turns into two and three, and before he knows it it’s midnight and Charlie hasn’t left his carrier. 

Louis sighs and crouches down on his knees, peering inside the carrier with unease. The cat’s staring at him still and Louis swears he sees his eyes narrow as his face comes into view. 

“Charlie,” he says. “I realize I’m not Aunt Milda, but I think you and I can get along quite well if you give me a chance.” The fierce hiss he receives as a response tells him all he needs to know. “Right. Good talk, mate.” 

He sets up his litter tray a couple feet away so he knows where to go if he ventures out during the night. He opens up a can of food as well, placing his food bowl and a bowl of water on the other side of the carrier. He’ll have to go shopping the next day for more supplies. Louis wonders if he can buy Charlie’s affection with catnip. He’s not above bribery.

***

Louis spends most of the next morning googling everything he needs to know about taking care of a cat. Charlie has migrated overnight from his carrier to underneath the loveseat in the corner. His eyes still watch Louis angrily from where he sits on the couch with his laptop.

A look at the food bowl and litter tray tells him Charlie at least ate and did his business during the night, so Louis makes a mental note to buy the same type of food the solicitor dropped off. The cat’s gone through enough stress with the death of his owner, so he doesn’t want to add a hunger strike on top of that. 

He runs to Tesco around noon and loads up a cart with cat food, litter, a scooper, a small fortune’s worth of cat toys and catnip, a cat scratch post, and a comfy-looking cat bed. He blanches when he swipes his card and sees the total, cursing Aunt Milda for not leaving a little bit of money behind as well. It’s just inconsiderate, he thinks. 

He tries to cajole Charlie out of hiding with the toys when he gets home, dangling a mouse in front of the couch while he sing-songs “Here kitty-kitty!” When that doesn’t work, he rolls a tinkering ball underneath the couch. It’s swatted back with a hiss almost immediately.

“You’re a bit of a prick, mate, you know that?” he huffs. “I’m trying my best here you little arsehole.”

Eventually Louis decides to leave well enough alone. As long as the cat eats and poops, he can’t ask for much else. He’s just thankful Charlie hasn’t resorted to peeing in his shoes in protest. 

Louis’ friends have taken to calling Charlie “Ghost,” in honor of his mysterious non-presence. Niall is convinced he doesn’t even own a cat, that it’s just an elaborate prank Louis is playing on all of them. Louis has half a mind to think they’re right; maybe he’s made Charlie up in some bizarre form of stress release.

And then Charlie comes out from hiding.

Louis comes home on a Wednesday evening after a long day at work only to discover his flat is in ruins. There’s a toilet paper roll ripped to shreds in the middle of the lounge, his walls are scratched to hell, and there’s a trail of breadcrumbs leading out from his kitchen. He walks hesitantly inside the room and is startled to find Charlie out in the open on the kitchen island, staring at him defiantly. It’s the first time he’s actually seen the cat as more than just a shadow and Louis is disappointed to discover he looks decidedly ordinary. He’s a short-haired tabby with tiny ears and a fluffy tail and absolutely no distinguishing characteristics. He half expected devil horns. The cat blinks once and stands, flicking its tail in Louis’ direction as he hops off the counter and saunters out of the room. The bag of bread that had been sitting on his counter is ripped to shreds. 

He groans and cleans up the mess as quickly as possible, bemoaning the loss of a perfectly good loaf of bread. When he makes it back into the lounge, he finds Charlie lazing about on his couch, stretched out while he licks delicately at his paws. 

“Charlie,” he says. The cat peeks an eye at him but keeps licking. “Why do you hate me?”

It only gets worse from there. Charlie swipes at his ankles with wickedly sharp claws when he walks by and turns his food bowl over everyday in obstination. Louis wakes up once in the middle of the night and sees Charlie staring at him from the doorway with a dangerous gleam in his beady eyes. 

It’s then that he comes to realize that Charlie is no ordinary cat. In fact, if he was a human, Louis is sure Charlie would be a serial killer. 

He sleeps with his door closed after that.

***

“You’re scared of a cat,” Zayn drawls in a deadpan voice. He lifts his eyebrows mockingly above the rim of his eyeglasses as he lifts his beer to his mouth and smirks. “Fearless Tommo is scared of a cat.”

Louis kicks at Zayn’s knee from underneath their booth at the pub. Niall snickers at his side while his other friend Ed looks at him contemplatively.

“Is he really that bad?” Ed asks.

“Terrible,” Louis moans. “He hates me. If I had a weapon in the house I’m positive he’d learn to use it somehow. I’ve tried bonding with him but,” he pauses and gestures to his arm covered in healing scratches. “Didn’t go so well, that.”

“Why haven’t you just given him up?” Niall asks. 

“I’d take him,” Zayn cuts in. “My place is already a zoo, what’s one more?”

“I couldn’t do that to you, Z,” Louis replies. “He’d probably start bullying your animals, the little dickhead. I have to shoulder this burden myself, I’m afraid. Don’t want to give him up to a shelter either, because like, I’m not heartless. Little bugger won’t be adopted, and we all know what happens then. I’m stuck.”

“Maybe not,” Ed pipes up. “This sounds weird but I have a friend who might be able to help you.”

“Is it a priest? I think an exorcism is the only option here, mate.”

“No, no. Right, so like, remember my kitten Graham?” At everyone’s nods, he continues, “Well when I got him he was a bit of a prick. He was just scared, but he wasn’t very pleasant to be around. So my friend Harry comes around one day to hang out and he just, like, _bonds_ with him. After an hour he had him snuggling in his lap. He’s going to school to be a vet I think, and he volunteers in an animal shelter so he’s got lots of experience I guess. But anyway, he developed a bit of a reputation after that and now everyone calls him the Cat Whisperer.”

“You have a friend everyone calls the Cat Whisperer,” Louis says, “And you’ve neglected to tell me this until _now_.”

Ed just shrugs and sips his beer while Niall and Zayn nod.

“Yeah, I know Harry,” Zayn says.

“He’s great,” Niall adds.

“Hold up, since when do you all have friends outside of our circle and why haven’t I met him? And why has no one mentioned that there’s a bloody _cat whisperer_ that I could’ve called weeks ago?”

“Well you never asked, did you?” Ed protests.

Louis throws his hands up in frustration. “Just give me his number, please.”

***

He types up and deletes several texts the next day before settling on, **Heyyyy is this the cat whisperer ?**

_My name is Harry but yes that’s me :DD_

**Hi Harry my cat is the spawn of satan**

_:( I’m sure he’s just misunderstood. .xx_

**I need your help :(((**

He holds his breath then, half expecting Harry to turn down his request for help.

_Welllll, new semester just started and everything's slow at the moment so I can come over tomorrow? I need to stay a few nights to work my magic ;)_

_That winky face was creepy, I’m sorry._

_I’m not coming onto you._

_I just need to bond with your cat._

**Hahaha take a breath mate**

**Tomorrow is fine**

More than fine. Harry is a bloody miracle

***

The next 24 hours are a bit stressful for Louis, all things considered. The boy who can potentially cure all of Louis’ troubles is coming over, and he just so happens to be a friend his friends have been hiding from him. He needs to know what he’s been missing. To top things off, although Charlie still has yet to piss in Louis’ flat, he’s progressed to aggressively kicking his litter out of the box reproachfully whenever Louis is near. He fears that the dreaded stench of cat urine is only a little while away unless Harry the Cat Whisperer sparks some changes.

He cleans his flat to the best of his abilities, which is mostly just picking up dirty socks and pants that have taken up residence in the living room where Harry will be sleeping. He’s not a barbarian, after all. 

Just a few minutes ago Harry had texted him to let him know he’d be over shortly, but he was stopping at the shops to get some “supplies.” He eyes Charlie dubiously, wondering if those supplies involve salt and holy water. 

Louis kicks back on the couch and waits, flipping through channels on the telly until he hears a rhythmic knock from the entryway; he stands motionlessly in the hall as the entirety of what he thinks is “Uptown Funk” is rapped out on the outside of his door. 

He can’t stop himself from laughing and opens the door with a grin on his face that quickly alters when he sees Harry the Cat Whisperer wiggling in his spot, still dancing to nonexistent music. Louis hadn’t put much thought into what Harry looked like -- maybe a spotty-looking geek wearing a well-worn cat-patterned jumper. But he’s nothing like that; Harry is lanky yet curvy, and ridiculously attractive. His large, expansive features work nicely together to form a beautiful face that’s framed by angelic, long chocolate curls. He’s wearing a stylish long black coat over a simple white t-shirt and skintight blue jeans. He looks exactly like the type of boy he’d try to pull in a club and then take home to meet his mother -- and he’s going to be living in his flat for the next week at least. 

His staring must go on for too long, because Harry asks, “Did you not like the knocking? Had it in my head all day. All week, really. More like all month.”

Louis shakes his head, trying not to leer at Harry’s pouty mouth that just released deep, drowsy words that rumbled around in Louis’ tummy pleasantly. “Nah, mate. Impressed with how you managed to it, though. I’m Louis.” He offers his hand for Harry to shake. Time to play it cool and totally ignore the blossoming attraction he feels to the boy in front of him. “You must be Harry, the lion tamer that every one of my friends seems to know.” 

He gestures for a giggling Harry to come inside, grabbing the boy’s duffel bag from the hallway and shouldering the door closed behind him. 

“I’m not a lion tamer,” Harry protests. “Just have a way with cats, is all.”

“So they’ve said,” Louis answers. “How’d you get started with that anyway?”

Harry shrugs and looks around Louis’ flat with unabashed curiosity. “Well I grew up with cats, right? My mum and my sisters are obsessed so naturally I was as well. Everyone at school talked about some new trick they’d taught their puppy, but all I could think about was, ‘I taught Dusty how to do that months ago.’ Just always had a way with them, I guess. So I’m going to school to be a veterinarian.” He pauses and shrugs. “Either that or I’ll win the lottery and start a cat sanctuary in the wilderness.”

Louis laughs, but Harry’s face is completely devoid of humor. He’s serious.

“You’re serious.”

Harry nods. “Dream big is my motto.”

“What a ridiculous person you are,” Louis observes.

Harry plops down on the floor and leans back with his arms behind him. Narrowing his eyes at Louis and smirking, he answers, “Indeed, I am. Not sure you should be insulting the man who’s supposed to be helping you out here, though.” He turns his nose up and sniffs his nose imperiously. “I hold your future in your hands.”

Louis giggles and holds his hands up in surrender. “Never again, promise. Would you like to meet Charlie?” Harry nods eagerly, sitting up straight and looking around the room as if he’ll find Charlie lurking in one of the corners. He wouldn’t put it past him. He’s not actually sure how to get Charlie to come in the room, however, seeing as how he’d be in genuine fear for his life if he dared pick the creature up from wherever he’s hiding. He’s about to tell Harry as much when the boy starts scratching his fingers along the carpet.

“The trick with ornery cats,” Harry starts, “Is to get their attention like this.” He keeps scratching at the carpet for a few minutes until a tuft of hair makes itself visible by the doorway. Harry stops scratching and turns his back to the cat, shooting Louis a grin. “And then you ignore it. Not, like, forever -- just until they’re curious enough to suss you out.” 

They sit in silence, Louis watching as Charlie gradually creeps closer and Harry swings his feet in a windshield wiper motion on the floor. The cat jumps onto a bookshelf nearby and watches Harry from higher ground. 

“Step one,” Harry whispers. “Got his attention. Now for some reverse psychology.” He picks up a cat toy nearby and tosses it in the air, throwing it back up in a half-hearted juggling motion when he catches it. Charlie eyes him distrustfully from the shelf. “I hate cats,” Harry says seriously. “Hate it when they come near me and hound me and _meow_. Good thing Charlie is a little bastard, innit? It’d suck if he came over and bothered me.” He throws Louis a comical wink as goes on, goading Charlie.

“This isn’t actually cat psychology is it?” Louis asks. “You’re making this shit up.”

Harry shrugs one of his shoulders. “Not really. I just fly by the seat of my pants once I get a feel for the situation, to be honest.” He watches Charlie with interest as the cat suddenly stands up and jumps off the shelf. He sashays closer to Harry and drops himself to the floor a couple feet away, rolling onto his back with his belly exposed like he’s asking to be tickled.

Louis gapes.

“No, no,” Harry murmurs. “It’s a trap. If I scratched his belly now he’d leave me with a bloody stump.”

Charlie rolls back onto his side after a moment and Louis swears he sees the cats eyes narrow. He hops to his feet and leaves the room, tail swishing dramatically with every step.

Once he’s gone, Harry claps his hands excitedly and gives a whoop of excitement. “That went so well!”

“It did?” Louis asks.

“Baby steps, pal,” Harry answers. “My disinterest has piqued his curiosity, I’m tellin’ you. Before you know it, he’ll be eating out of the palm of my hand.”

“But he’s supposed to be eating out of the palm of _my_ hand,” Louis whines. “He needs to like me too.”

Harry rolls his eyes and stands up, sitting down on the couch next to Louis. He pats his thigh comfortingly while Louis struggles to not jerk his leg into the touch. _Keep it cool_ , he reminds himself. 

“One thing at a time, my friend. Charlie just experienced a great loss, Louis. Him being an asshole is him grieving. Probably. We’ll get there eventually.”

Harry’s only here for a week. Louis decides not to remind him of this. He wouldn’t mind if he stuck around.

***

Harry sleeps on the couch that night and leaves early the next morning for his morning classes. Louis gives him a spare key after making the other boy promise not to rob him of everything he owns.

When Louis comes home later that night, he’s greeted with the sound of muted voices coming from the living room. Or just one voice, he finds, after he tiptoes to the doorway and sees Harry sitting close to Charlie’s chair and talking animatedly. 

“So I was shadowing Dr. McNeill today, right? And he’s operating on this tiny little piglet from a local farm -- cutest thing you’d ever see -- and afterwards, when the little piggy is waking up from his anaesthesia, he lets out the most adorably pitiful little squeal. He’s one hundred percent fine now, by the way. The farmer was so relieved; I gave him my number and made him promise to text me pictures of the little guy as he grows up. Apparently his daughter is super attached to him, so they’re keeping him as a pet. It’s like a non-sad version of Charlotte’s Web. Did you ever read that Charlie?” 

Louis watches in fascination as Harry carries on a full-blown conversation with his cat. He coughs after a moment to get Harry’s attention. 

Harry spins around and smiles, waving shyly at Louis with a blush on his pale face. “Oh, hey Lou. Did you...hear any of that, by chance?” He inspects his fingernails in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Grinning, Louis nods and lifts his eyebrows in amusement. “Very entertaining. I’m sure Charlie understood every word.”

“Heyyy,” Harry protests. “Don’t underestimate feline communication skills. I’m sure he deeply appreciated my conversation.”

“Of course, of course. Any breakthroughs with him today?”

Harry hesitates, scrunching his face while he considers his response. “Well when I got back Charlie was relaxing on the couch and when he saw me he ran under the chair and hid himself from me. I’ve just been chatting with him since then, so. No is the answer to your question, I suppose.”

He seems forlorn, so Louis pats his shoulder in consolation. “Baby steps, like you said, right?” Rome wasn’t built in a day. Or something.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry stands and stretches out his limbs. Louis tries and fails to not stare at the bare strip of skin that’s exposed on Harry’s hips when he reaches his arms toward the ceiling. For all the boy’s lankiness, the skin above his hips is rather doughy and supple, an unformed little muffin top that Louis wants to nibble on as a snack. Christ, he’s in trouble.

It takes him a moment to realize that Harry is speaking. “Sorry, what?” he cuts into Harry’s mumbling.

“Dinner,” Harry repeats. “Was asking if you’d mind if I cooked dinner.”

Louis survives off of a steady diet of breakfast cereal, cigarettes, and pizza. Would he _mind_ if Harry cooks dinner. He scoffs. 

“Certainly wouldn’t _mind_ mate, but don’t feel obligated to cook for me. You’re doing all of this for free, I don’t expect much else.”

“Please, this is for myself. Not gonna live off Dominoes while I’m here, am I?” he jokes, looking pointedly at a pizza box tucked under Louis’ couch. He lives in filth, he really does.

Louis shoves his shoulder half-heartedly. “That’s not _all_ I eat. Now if it’s okay with you I’m gonna wash up. Unless you wanna shower before me?” _Or together_.

“No, I’ll go after. See what all you have in your cabinets to cook,” Harry says. Louis blanches and scurries away, not wanting to be around when Harry discovers his pantry filled with Coco Pops and biscuits. 

Over dinner -- a lovely meal of boxed mac n’ cheese Harry eats with a scowl, listing things he’ll need at the shops the next day under his breath -- Louis fills Harry in on all of Charlie’s habits.

“He ate my bread, is that normal?” he asks.

Harry rolls his eyes and answers, “Seeing as how it was over-processed white bread, he was probably just trying to hint to you that you need better taste during your sparse grocery trips.”

“I’m sensing some hostility here,” Louis replies airily. 

“I’m eating gritty macaroni with an expiration date of last year, _Lewis_ ,” Harry grouses. “How do you live like this? I’m tempted to just become your live-in chef instead.” He spears his noodles violently with his fork to illustrate his point.

 _Please do_ , Louis resolutely does not say. “Wouldn’t mind if you did,” he _does_ say. Harry flushes prettily and shovels a spoonful of macaroni into his mouth. Louis grins, feeling rather smug. Charlie chooses that moment to make an appearance, sauntering into the room with a haughty glare, eyeing the two boys suspiciously.

“Don’t move a muscle,” Harry whispers.

Both of them watch in silence as Charlie weaves in between their legs underneath the table. He emerges from the other side and hops onto the end of the dinner table, watching both of them with active interest. 

“Were you watching the macaroni the entire time you cooked it?” asks Louis. “Because I’m suddenly rather concerned that he poisoned us. Look at that face. He’s done something terrible.” Charlie swishes his tail.

Harry scoffs. “He’s a cat, Lou. This is promising. Try and pet him.”

“What?!” Louis exclaims. “He’ll kill me.”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Harry replies. He seems entirely too cavalier at the mention of Louis’ death. Maybe he and Charlie are in cahoots, he thinks. Who knows what they’ve gotten up to without him around.

Hesitantly, he reaches his hand out to Charlie. “Slower,” Harry whispers. “I know this sounds weird but just hold your fingers out and let him sniff you a bit.”

Louis whips his head around and glares at Harry. “Are you having me on?”

“Just do it,” Harry urges.

So Louis does it, groaning internally at the fact that he’s already whipped and he and Harry haven’t even kissed. Probably never will, he reminds himself. Professional boundaries and all. When his fingertips are inches from Charlie’s face, the cat backs up a smidgen. Louis freezes and gulps, read for whatever pain comes his way. But Charlie merely twitches his nose and hops off the table, leaving the room without a second glance. 

“He didn’t attack me,” Louis marvels. “I’m not bloodied or anything.”

“Has he ever actually attacked you Louis?” Harry asks curiously.

“Yes,” Louis pauses, thinking back. Granted, most of it came before Harry arrived. All of it actually, There’s been hellish hissing and death glares, yes, but Charlie’s yet to get violent since Harry's been around. “Kind of stopped once you got here. Huh.”

Harry nods wisely, dropping his spoon into his half-empty bowl of macaroni. “Charlie was just scared, Lou. Cats lash out when they're threatened. It might take a little while, but you just need to gain his trust. I’ll get you there, I promise.”

“Thanks babycakes,” Louis says without thinking. _Babycakes_. Where did that come from?

Harry beams at him, surprisingly, and flashes his pretty dimples. “No problem, pumpkin.”

***

When Louis comes home the following day, he finds Harry and Charlie sitting amicably together on the couch watching _Sons of Anarchy_ on Netflix. Charlie doesn’t look particularly loving, but he’s sitting nearby nonetheless, watching some kind of violence unfold on the screen.

“First of all,” Louis says as he steps into the room, startling Harry into dropping his spoon in a pint of ice cream he must have picked up at the store, “How have you gotten this far with him when I’ve had him for over a month? Secondly, why are you giving him ideas?” He gestures towards the screen. “I don’t need him to join a motorcycle gang next.” 

“Told you I have a way with cats, pal. He’s still a little wary of me, but I’m halfway there. I’m trying to put in a good word for you with him. And to answer your other question, no. I’m introducing him to another Charlie, namely his fabulous arse.” He sighs, resting his chin in his hands. “Think he might like boys? One can hope.”

Louis does _not_ feel jealous. He doesn’t. “You’ve got a better arse than him,” he sneers. 

Harry frowns and turns toward him. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Louis responds, waggling his eyebrows. Definitely a compliment. Harry’s jeans leave delightfully little to the imagination.

Harry pouts though, obviously not on the same page. “Thought my bum was rather perky,” he whispers sadly.

“No, that’s --,” Louis stammers, panicking. “I meant it as a compliment. Your arse is quite lovely.”

There’s a beat of heavy silence before Harry grins bashfully. “Thanks. I do quite a lot of squats.” Louis eyes Harry’s thick thighs and nods. It's obvious he has something wonderful going on in his exercise regimen. 

“Just like you obviously work on your arms a lot,” Harry adds offhandedly after a moment. Which. What. 

“My arms?” Louis asks. “You like my arms?”

Harry flushes scarlet and avoids eye contact, staring determinedly at the television screen as he shrugs and mumbles, “I mean. Yeah. They’re nice. Like. Muscle-y and such. Quite manly. Rugged. You’re rugged, I mean, not your arms. I’m not sure if arms can actually be rugged? But if they could, yours would definitely--.”

“Harry,” Louis cuts into his word vomit. “As much as I appreciate you appreciating my ruggedness, stop babbling. Thank you. I’ll be sure to wear tank tops around you more often,” he jokes. 

The other boy mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “and your baggy joggers with no pants on” but Louis is positive that’s just wishful thinking on his part. Harry seems nervous, though, so he lets it go. 

“Budge over, would you,” he says as he approaches the couch. “Act as a buffer between me and Charlie.” Frowning, Harry pets Charlie hesitantly. To Louis’ surprise the cat merely peeps one eye open to look at Harry and then closes them again, only to start _purring_.

“Wasn’t the purpose of this week to get Charlie to like _me_?” Louis asks. “As far as I can tell, he’s only taken a shining to you, mate.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry replies, looking wounded. “I’m really trying but he’s just so stubborn. It’s like you’ve offended him or something. I’m sorry if this has been a waste of your time.” He looks down at his lap and twiddles his thumbs sadly, looking dangerously close to pouting.

“No!” Louis blurts. “No, not at all. You’ve been lovely, Harry. And we still have three days left!”

Harry smiles and nods, scratching behind Charlie’s ears absently. “I’ll have him wrapped around your little finger, just you watch.”

***

“I want him so bad,” Louis whines to Niall during lunch the next day. He swirls a soggy chip in a puddle of ketchup sorrowfully, tracing a sad face in the blob of red. “Why did you introduce me to him? I’ll never want any boy more than him. I’m screwed for life.”

Niall laughs, texting away on his phone without any apparent care about Louis’ plight. “Nut up,” he says. “Go home and grab Harry by the arse and tell him you want to fuck him. I know him, he’s a kinky little shit, he’d like that. Maybe add in something about making babies with him,” he adds with a wrinkle of his nose. “Dude’s obsessed.”

“But that’s the thing, Niall! I’ve only known him for a few days and I want to start planning a nursery in my flat with him. That can’t be normal.”

“Fuck normal,” Niall snorts. “Have you met Harry? If you did that he’d drop to his knees and swallow your dick whole. Just talk to him, man.”

Louis sighs because _it’s not that easy_. How does he tell a boy he barely knows that he’s infatuated with him? An absolute recipe for disaster, that is.

With that in mind, he makes it his mission to find out everything there is to know about Harry Styles. He heads home from work early with a determined pip in his step, ready to learn the ABCs of Harry.

When he makes it through the door, however, it’s Harry who surprises him, running towards Louis with barely suppressed glee with a grumpy-looking Charlie in his hands. A Charlie who is wearing what appears to be an American football uniform. It’s then that Louis notices Harry’s outfit and he nearly passes out then and there. His long, curvy legs are completely bare beneath his red, pleated cheerleader skirt. He’s wearing a sleeveless vest on top and his long curly hair is tied up in a perfectly round bun. He looks incredible and Louis thinks he might be drooling. He wipes at the corner of his slack mouth with his thumb and -- yes. He’s definitely drooling. 

“Louis!” Harry squeals. “Charlie and I have had the _best_ day! We thought it would be a good idea to do a little photoshoot of sorts, give you something to remember this week by.” Harry waves a tiny pom-pom he’d had hidden behind his back in Charlie’s face. “You can’t tell, but he’s having a blast.”

“I--I’m--,” Louis stutters. “That’s -- I was always going to remember this week, H. I’m. Wow. Okay.”

Zayn comes out of the living room a few seconds later, smirking at Louis while he fiddles with a camera in his hands. “Think you’ve rendered him a bit speechless, Hazza.” Louis glowers at Zayn, mouthing obscenities at him while Harry titters obliviously and cuddles with Charlie. 

“I think the ones of us dressed as beach bums were my favorites,” Harry offers. “The bikini I wore was so pretty.”

“Bikini?” Louis nearly shouts. 

“I’m just joking,” Harry giggles. “Maybe. Guess you’ll have to find out.” He smirks at Louis suggestively while Charlie wiggles free to jump on the floor and skulk back into the room. 

([x](http://bgayb.tumblr.com/post/112388910793/charlie-the-demon-cat-gave-me-life-after-harry-in))

This -- this is _flirting_. Louis isn’t an idiot. To some degree, Harry has to be into him. It’s just science. 

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, Louis yanks Zayn’s arm and pushes him toward the door. “Lovely seeing you Zayn, but I’m afraid you have to leave now. I have some very urgent and important bonding time with Harry and Charlie to attend to.”

Zayn grumbles and lets himself be pushed out, yelling “Be safe!” as Louis slams the door. Louis grunts and spins around to see a beaming Harry standing right where he left him. 

“Bonding time?” he asks.

Louis nods, phone in hand as he thumbs through his contacts to find his favorite local Chinese delivery place. He regretfully lets Harry slip away to change his outfit as he busies himself setting up the living room floor for dinner for three. He sets up a tiny plate in between the spots for Harry and him for Charlie, and opens a can of fancy expensive cat food he bought at the ships to try and woo Charlie with. Harry warned Louis that cats are quite finnicky with their food so Charlie might reject the plate and hate him forever, but at this point in his life that’s a measured risk he is quite willing to take. He has nothing left to lose when it comes to this cat.

As he answers the door and pays the delivery man with an uncontrollable grin on his face, he tries to remind himself that this is _not_ a date. It’s a dinner between mates where Louis will find out every one of Harry’s secrets to use to woo him later. There’s quite a difference there, he thinks.

Yet he can’t control his nerves as Harry comes out of the bathroom wearing a soft cotton t-shirt and skintight jeans with his cheerleader outfit folded neatly in his hands. His bun has become loose and wispy tendrils of hair curl around his face.

“Can’t quite get used to this always-clothed-at-home thing, but I’m trying,” he jokes. At Louis’ confused frown, he explains, “I’m naked, like, all the time. Only get dressed to go outside. Even then only sometimes,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

Louis’ mouth dries at the thought and he pinches himself to stop from telling Harry he’s free to strip. _Mi casa es su casa_ , after all. 

“That’s...nice,” he says instead, voice cracking suspiciously. Harry doesn’t notice, thankfully, and sits down dutifully opposite Louis on the floor. Louis busies himself forking lo mein and rice onto each of their plates; Harry moans when he impatiently bites into a crabmeat rangoon, chomping happily while Louis struggles to even his breaths.

They eat in silence for a few minutes before Louis finally starts to talk. 

“So, Harry. It just struck me today that you’ve been basically living with me for a week and I still don’t know much about you.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows and swallows a mouthful of fried rice. “You know plenty about me. I’m simple enough. I’m twenty-one and I like cats and I’m studying veterinary science. That’s all there really is to me.” He shrugs and munches on the side of vegetables Louis had ordered just for him.

“How’d you meet Niall and Zayn and Ed? How many siblings do you have? What’s your favorite color? How many kids do you want and who’s your dream partner? I don’t know these things, Harold!” he complains. “It doesn’t help that my friends have been hiding you from me.”

“Well, first off, my name’s not Harold, _Lewis_ ,” Harry answers. “But all right then. I met Zayn in class, and Niall at a short-lived guitar club our uni had -- Ed was running it until he got too busy and then we kind of just disbanded.” Harry stretches out, resting his weight on his arms behind him while Louis nods for him to go on. “I have one sister, Gemma, and a stepbrother Mike. My favorite color is pink or maybe yellow, I think? I want as many kids as I’m capable of popping out and my dream partner is someone nice, someone who’s funny, and has a nice smile.” Harry smirks then, adding, “Nice cock wouldn’t hurt.”

“Awful,” Louis shoots back, deciding quickly that whipping his dick out for inspection would be a bit of a bad move. “This is all very good to know, thank you.” 

“Anything else you’d like to know? Or can I ask some questions now?” At Louis’ gesture for him to go on, Harry starts shooting questions at him. Louis answers them quickly, enjoying the way Harry seems so invested in his answers. 

“Siblings?” he eventually asks.

“Uhh...five sisters and one brother, so that’s six? Bit of a crowded household.” Louis takes a sip of water as Harry gapes at him. 

“Your mum is my hero. Seven children sounds like a dream," he sighs. 

“Kids are important to you, then?” Louis asks.

“Oh yeah!” Harry answers. “Told you I wanted as many as I could pop out. I’ve always wanted some of my own. Picked out my daughter’s name when I was still in my teens. My friends took the piss out of me for that one.”

“I feel the same way,” Louis says, smiling dreamily at the thought. Harry looks very alarmed suddenly, staring pointedly at Louis’ lap, but he goes on. “My house was just so loud growing up. I can’t imagine not having that for myself someday, you know?” _Preferably with you_ , he thinks.

“Louis,” Harry whispers. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but…” He trails off, pointing at his lap. Louis looks down and barely contains his gasp, entirely unaware that Charlie had crawled into his lap and that he’d actually been petting him while he was talking to Harry. 

“Oh my God,” Louis whispers. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t stop petting him!” Harry orders. “Keep it confined to his back and his ears.”

Louis does as Harry says, reveling in the way Charlie’s purrs reverberate through his body. “How did this happen? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry replies. He smiles up at Louis, eyes sparkling as he crawls closer to pet at Charlie. His face is inches from Louis as he beams at him and adds, “This was all you. All it took was a little time.”

Louis stares at Harry’s face in wonder, eyes darting to his mouth, pink and pouty and _so_ close to his own. Harry’s grin doesn’t fade as he keeps looking into his eyes. The atmosphere in the room has grown rather heated rather quickly, and Louis knows he isn’t imagining the way Harry has leaned in even closer. All it would take is a nudge and his lips could be on Harry’s, like how he’s wanted for days.

Days. _Days_. Is it too soon? He feels like the lead of a romantic comedy, freaking out about what everything _means_ , but he just knows that what’s happening with Harry is different. He’s never actually struggled with whether or not it’s too early to kiss a boy before; when he pulls at clubs, he certainly never worries about moving too fast.

But that’s the problem, he thinks. Harry’s not some boy he’s met at a club. He’s a wonderful boy who he wants to compose bloody poetry for, and court like they’re in the Middle Ages.

So he stops himself and makes the impossibly hard decision to back off. He turns his head, trying to ignore Harry’s disappointed frown, and decides to make light of the situation.

“I guess Harry’ll be leaving sooner than we thought, eh Charlie? Got this thing curled up in my lap like a little kitten, so you probably can’t wait to leave. I can give you a Yelp review if you’d like. Great work, really.” 

He turns to smile at Harry, and is caught off guard by the brief flash of hurt that crosses his face. “You want me to -- I thought --,” he cuts himself off, shaking his head and giving Louis a pained smile. “Um, you’re right I guess. Suppose I should head out now. No need for the...Yelp review? But thank you for dinner and for having me.” He stands, dusting his jeans off and leaving a bewildered Louis on the floor, still petting Charlie.

“I didn’t -- I didn’t mean you had to leave _tonight_ ,” Louis rushes to add.

Harry casts him a blank smile over his shoulder as he shoves bits of clothing into his duffel bag. “No, no. Did what I came for, didn’t I? Might as well get out of your hair and stop imposing.”

“You weren’t in my hair,” Louis protests softly.

Harry’s finished packing his things sooner rather than later, and he finally leaves not long after that, waving goodbye at Louis and Charlie and making promises to keep in touch that he isn’t sure are genuine. Louis sits on the floor, half-empty containers of Chinese food all around him, while Charlie gives him a judgmental look from his lap.

“I think I fucked that up a bit, Charlie.”

He gets a haughty meow in response.

***

“You’re an idiot,” Zayn says cheerfully the next day. Louis invited him over for a smoke to relieve the sudden buildup of tension he’s been afflicted with, but Zayn dug in right away, asking what he’d done to make Harry so sad.

“We were gonna kiss and I just thought we should wait a bit,” Louis explains.

“Wait for what?” Zayn asks in disbelief. “Permission from Harry’s dad to hold his hand? Christ, Louis, it’s 2015. And did you tell Harry any of this? He’s convinced he was reading into everything and that you were trying to let him down easy.”

“What?” Louis gasps. “I want to put a bloody ring on his finger, Z. I just met him less than a week ago. That’s terrifying.”

“That’s love,” Zayn replies, blowing smoke out of his mouth. “Where’s your sense of romance? Love at first sight _does_ exist.”

Louis groans and falls onto his back on the couch, pinching his nose in between his fingers. “How do I fix this?”

Zayn rolls his eyes and points to Louis’ phone on the coffee table. “Talking to him would be a start, idiot.”

Louis glares at him but pulls his phone out anyway, thumbing through his old texts until he finds the first conversation he’d ever had with Harry. He bites his lip as his fingers hover over the keyboard, debating on what to say. Eventually he settles on a simple, **Hey Harry**.

It takes a nerve-wracking half hour for Harry to text back. His response is short and sweet, just a _Hey Lou :)_ and nothing else. 

“Smiley faces are good, yeah?” he asks Zayn who’s completely zoned out on the floor, doodling on a blank space on his arm with Sharpie. Zayn blinks up at him blearily and gives him a thumbs up, clearly not knowing what he’s talking about. “Right.”

He decides to take a risk, sending: **I still have all of that chinese food leftover and I don’t think I can eat it all !!!! You should come over and I’ll let you watch more of Charlie Hunnam’s arse ;)**.

Harry takes less time to respond this time, which Louis hesitantly counts as a win until he sees his response. _Haha I have the boxset at my flat already! Kind of busy with coursework right now but maybe later_

“He’s blowing me off,” Louis mumbles. “Zayn, he’s blowing me off.”

“Bet you wish he was blowing you off,” Zayn giggles. He bats away a wadded up piece of paper that Louis throws at his head and lets out a deep sigh. “You gotta chase him a little, man. Don’t let him slip away.”

“Right, right,” Louis answers. Charlie hops up next to him on the couch and gives him a sad meow, rubbing up against his arm to get attention. Louis scratches behind his ears, smiling at the newly-docile cat’s affection. Really, Charlie is what brought Harry into his life; even if the cat was still the crotchety little fuck he was when he first got him, Louis would happily keep him around out of gratefulness. He stops petting him as an idea forms in his mind. Charlie meows plaintively and nudges at his hand as Louis starts to grin.

“I know what to do,” Louis announces. Zayn looks up from the completed Sharpie sleeve he’s given himself and motions for him to continue. “He came here because of Charlie, right? Charlie’s the key to everything.”

Zayn looks at Charlie in confusion. “He is?”

Louis claps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling the cat and Zayn. “It’s been great having you over Zayn, but you gotta leave. I have a boy to woo.”

Groaning, Zayn peels himself off the floor and collects his things with only a few mumbled curses. He claps Louis on the back on his way out and says, “Good luck, bro. Don’t fuck it up again, he’s my friend too.”

“I know, dickhead,” Louis grumbles, shoving Zayn out of the door fondly. “I’ve got everything under control.”

Once he’s gone, Louis dashes around his flat, cleaning every surface that’s gotten mucky in the 24 hours since Harry left, and opening windows to air out the smell of smoke. When he’s satisfied with the relative cleanliness of his flat, he sits back down on the couch and texts Harry again. **EMERGENCY Charlie is going berserk I don’t think he’s reacting well to you leaving + he pissed in my laundry help**

He taps his fingers anxiously against his thigh as he waits for Harry’s response, hoping he’ll take the bait and not blow him off again. He takes pictures of Charlie in the meantime, cooing as he rolls around on the floor, and tries to calm his nerves.

His phone buzzes a few minutes later and he nearly drops it on the floor in his haste to see what Harry’s said. _Omg :( he PEED? I can come over if you want and see if I can find out what’s going on :(_

Another text seconds later reads: _Soak your clothes in vinegar!!!!!_

Poor Harry, honestly. He’s legitimately concerned over a complete and total ruse Louis has put on. He’s so sweet. 

**Please, ASAP. He’s so upset, I think he misses you.** _I miss you_ , he thinks. 

_Be there in half an hour, I just have to pack a bag_

Louis springs into action, unloading the leftover Chinese food from his refrigerator and doling it out onto plates to heat up in the microwave. He pulls out Charlie’s tiny bowl of food as well and sets everything up on the living room floor just like he had it the other night. He spends the rest of his wait on the floor, petting Charlie until the cat is sleepy and purring in his lap. When he hears a knock on his door he jumps, apologizing profusely to the cat as he stands and sets him on the ground. 

He straightens his clothing outside of the door, taking a deep breath before he opens it and sees a distraught-looking Harry. “I’m so sorry,” Harry rushes to say. “I really thought Charlie was better now.”

Louis tries to put on an appropriately distressed face, nodding quickly and hastening to assure Harry it’s not your fault. “No, you were perfect. I think he just didn’t like that you left. Maybe you should just stay here always,” he laughs. It’s not a joke.

He leads Harry into the living room where Charlie patiently waits next to his bowl. Louis bites his lip and sneaks a look at Harry who just looks confused. “What’s this?” Harry asks. He turns to Charlie. “You peed in his laundry and now you’re waiting for dinner?”

“No, Harry,” Louis says, reaching for his arm. “Charlie didn’t pee on anything.” 

Harry’s eyebrows furrow adorably. “But you said…”

“I know what I said, yeah. I may have, uh, lied. To get you over here.” Louis avoids eye contact and scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s regretting his decisions. “I just kind of wanted a do-over of yesterday evening? I mucked it up a bit. Figured this was the best way to get you over since you were trying to avoid me.”

“Avoid you?” Harry asks, voice lilting at the end. “I genuinely had a lot of coursework, Lou.”

Louis’ face drops even more. “Oh my God. I thought -- well I know it had only been a day, but I thought...Fuck. You can go!” He pulls Harry’s arm and pushes him toward the door, but Harry digs his heels in and stands his ground. “No, seriously. I’m an idiot and I’m keeping you from your studies and --.”

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” Harry cuts in. “I’m here now, aren’t I? I don’t particularly feel like leaving.”

“I don’t want to push you away,” Louis says. 

It’s Harry’s turn to bite his lip, blushing as he looks down at his toes. “The other night, I -- well I thought you were trying to let me down easy, to be honest. I was sulking, yeah, but I’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I wasn’t going to avoid you.”

Louis’ heart flutters happily because the boy in front of him is just so _sweet_. “I think this is what people would call _miscommunication_ ,” he whispers dramatically. Harry giggles, eyeing Louis with newfound hope. “I really like you. I was worried that kissing you would be moving too fast?” It sounds so silly when he says it out loud. 

Harry must feel the same, because he squawks out a laugh. “Never pegged you for the old-fashioned type,” he muses.

“I’m really, really not,” Louis admits. “You just...I feel like this is different.”

Nodding, Harry comes closer and hesitantly reaches for Louis’ hand. “I was listening to a playlist on Spotify earlier called ‘Baby-Making Beats’ and I only thought about you. That’s weird, right?”

Louis snorts and draws Harry in with a hand at the base of his spine. “Surprisingly no,” he answers. “Do you want to eat? Or…” he trails off, looking pointedly at Harry’s lips.

“Definitely the latter,” Harry breathes. Settling his hand on the other boy’s hip, Louis grips him tight and leans in, pressing his lips to his in a chaste kiss. He pulls away after a moment, smiling as he watches Harry’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Again,” Harry says. 

“Demanding,” Louis mutters into his mouth as he goes in for another kiss. He brushes his thumb over Harry’s cheekbone as he pulls Harry’s pouty lower lip in between his own, licking at the sensitive flesh and making Harry whimper into his mouth. Harry opens his lips and lets Louis slide his tongue into his mouth. Louis grips the base of Harry’s shirt and tickles his fingers along the seam of his jeans, sliding his hand underneath Harry’s shirt to touch the small of his back. He holds Harry closer as he kisses him harder, kneading at the supple flesh of his hips as Harry moans and slides his tongue along Louis’. 

When they break for air, Louis finds that he’s slowly backed Harry toward the couch. He breathes hotly into Harry’s mouth as the other boy laughs, gripping Louis’ arm tightly. 

“This is nice,” Harry says breathlessly.

Instead of answering, Louis sits himself on the couch and pulls Harry down with him; the boy falls half on top of him, cuddling at his side as he tucks his face into the crook of Louis’ neck. 

The thing is, Louis knew this would happen. He knew once he got a taste of Harry he’d just want more and more; he slides his hand down to grip Harry’s thick thigh, digging in tightly as Harry whines into his neck and goes in for another kiss. It’s messier this time, more frantic as they pant into each other’s mouths and tangle their tongues together wetly. Louis slides his hands all over Harry’s thigh, pressing deeper toward the fleshy bits near his hip. He tugs at the other boy until he straddles him completely, body just mere inches from his own. 

“Is this too fast?” Harry jokes, ducking down to nibble at the sensitive tendons in Louis’ neck. Louis lulls his head to the side and shudders out a strangled breath, moving his hands to Harry’s arse. “Oh,” Harry whimpers, body still as Louis’ palms mold themselves to his perky bum.

“This alright?” Louis asks, turning his head back to look at Harry’s face. His face is flushed pink, eyes glassy and unfocused as he mouths wet, tiny kisses at Louis’ neck. 

Harry nods, long hair falling into his face. “I like it,” he answers.

That makes Louis grip him tighter, fingers digging into his pliant skin, a movement that must surprise Harry judging by the way he gasps and rocks down into Louis’ crotch. 

“God,” Louis groans, thrusting up against Harry’s grinding. He noses at Harry’s ear, nibbling and licking until Harry picks his head up and leans down for another kiss. His hands push at Harry’s arse, encouraging him to keep grinding down against Louis’ crotch which has quickly become very interested in the proceedings. Harry groans and starts working himself down in rolling motions, hips swiveling sexily in Louis’ lap as he sucks on his tongue.

“You’re good at this,” Louis mumbles into his mouth.

Harry grins, pulling a few inches away to wiggle his eyebrows. “This is my favorite position.”

Louis’ mouth dries at the thought, brain flooded with images of a naked Harry bouncing on his cock. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drive the images out lest he come too quick. Is that even where this is headed? Are they both going to come in their pants like a couple of teenagers?

For some reason, he’s not opposed to that idea.

Harry takes the lead eventually, crossing his wrists behind Louis’ neck as he straightens his back and focuses his thrusts directly against Louis’ bulge, letting out surprisingly high-pitched whines as their clothed cocks brush together. Louis watches him through the slits of his eyes, taken aback by the uninhibited look of pure pleasure on Harry’s slack face. His eyebrows are drawn together, his lips bruised and swollen from kissing. There are beads of sweat collecting along his face that dampen his long curls that bounce with every move of his body. He’s bloody gorgeous.

His belly starts to feel tight, a familiar coil in his lower stomach starting to unwind as Harry’s movements grow more desperate -- the feeling stops when Harry pauses abruptly, body shaking as he grunts helplessly and tries to catch his breath.

“You tired, love?” Louis asks. As much as he enjoys watching Harry above him, he’ll more than happily take the lead if it means getting to watch Harry fall apart. Harry shakes his head however, and separates their bodies just a little to reach down and fumble with Louis’ fly. 

“Wanna touch you,” he explains. “Want you to touch me.”

“Oh,” Louis answers. “Yeah, yeah.” He reaches for Harry’s fly as well, unbuttoning his skintight jeans with ease and then lowering the zipper. He laughs at the bright pink briefs peeking underneath, earning himself a playful swat from the other boy. He lets Harry stand up for just a second to tug his jeans all the way off while Louis kicks his off his legs and to the side. Harry clambers back on in just his briefs, hissing when Louis tickles his bare thighs with the tips of his fingers. “So lovely,” he says. 

He trails his fingers back up his thighs to his hips, teasing a clearly needy Harry who keeps pushing his hips insistently towards his hands. He finally gives in and wraps his hand around Harry’s cock, stroking his length through the fabric while Harry throws his head back and whines. The sound strikes right through Louis, and he pushes Harry’s waistband down impatiently to get his hands on his bare skin. 

Harry collects himself while Louis stares at his pretty cock, flushed dark and wet at the tip, and reaches into Louis’ pants to wrap his fist around his own. Louis throws his head back and grunts, thrusting up into Harry’s hold. He lets Harry stroke him a few times before knocking his hand away and tugging Harry closer, snaking his hand in between them to wrap his hand around both of their cocks. It’s a tight fit, his hand barely covering both, but Harry doesn’t seem to care, whimpering and writhing on top of Louis as he grinds into the touch. 

“So...fucking...hot…” he breathes, rocking into Louis’ grip and rubbing their cocks together. Louis brings his hand up for just a moment to spit in his hand, trying to soothe the friction between them as he starts jerking his hand in time with Harry’s rocking motions. 

He can feel himself coming undone already and it would be embarrassing were it not for Harry being in the same position, his movements frantic and needy as he tries to work himself against Louis’ dick. Louis dips the thumb of his other hand against the tip of Harry’s cock, swirling his precome against the head and trying his hardest to get him to come first. 

“Are you gonna come?” he goads, working his fist faster and faster and filling the room with the obscene sound of their actions, Harry’s moans bouncing off his walls. “Can you do that for me, kitten?” 

With one last thrust into Louis’ fist, Harry’s body seizes as he _screams_ , cock jerking in Louis’ grip as he spurts strings of come onto Louis’ shirt and his hand and his _cock_. Louis mumbles a curse as he covers his cock with just his fist, spreading Harry’s come around himself as he jerks himself off furiously fast. 

Boneless and exhausted but apparently still determined to get Louis off, Harry slides to the floor and swats Louis’ hand away, swallowing his cock with barely any difficulty at all. At the feeling of Harry’s throat swallowing around him, Louis comes in hot pulses down Harry’s throat. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes as Harry pulls off, licking the head of his cock daintily and licking his lips. 

His voice is hoarse and smug as he comments, “We definitely moved too fast.”

***

A little while later, cuddled up on Louis’ couch and feeding each other cold lo mein, Harry glances at the doorway of Louis’ living room and barks out a laugh. Louis looks toward the door and sees Charlie sitting there, burning angry holes into both of them with his eyes.

“I think he hates both of us now,” Harry whispers.

***

(Charlie gets over it.) 

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i was writing this and i was like "this is so fluffy how do i add the sex" so i'm sorry that i just HAD to add it but icantchange.tattoo
> 
> find me at harryscontentbum on tumblr or curvyharry on twitter!!!!!!!! love u thanks for reading :-*


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